


Gestures

by Sarah531



Category: Spider-Man (Movieverse), Spider-Man (Raimiverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:00:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah531/pseuds/Sarah531
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Harry's funeral, Mary Jane finds help from an unexpected source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gestures

MJ had come to the funeral alone. Her father was out of town with his new girlfriend, her mother was working long hours, her boyfriend was essentially gone to her- and her best friend, of course, was dead. It was possibly the worst she had ever felt, so she put on a mask of stoicism and refused to let it slip.

Peter had found something to read out: as one of only a handful of people who had even known Harry he clearly considered it his responsibility. His hands were shaking when he stood up, but his eyes were fixed on her. MJ looked away, but she heard the words. It was mostly composed of passages from the Bible, even though Harry had had no religious leanings. The passage about laying your life down for your friends featured prominently, even though no-one but her and Peter could ever know the significance.

"There's so much more I want to say," Peter finished, "and so much more I can't." His eyes continued to try and catch hers, but she didn't, couldn't look. Then they laid some flowers on the coffin, and then her friend was in the ground, and then it was over. It didn't take long for the mourners to start to disperse- and indeed most of them weren't mourners at all, merely Oscorp employees and distant relatives there to make up the numbers...

Peter was looking for her, but she couldn't face him, she walked away. Although a part of her secretly wished him to, he didn't follow her.

So she walked and walked through the graveyard and the rain, cold and grieving and all alone. She missed Harry, and she missed Peter, and she missed what she herself had been not so long ago. And she was about to turn around and return to her empty flat, when someone said, "Hey."

She whirled around, on the defensive instantly. She even raised her hands to fight. But it wasn't a monster or a goblin this time- it was just a young, startled woman. Her age. Familiar-looking...

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Gwen said. "I didn't think. You walking on your own. Um- my dad's back there." She gestured vaguely behind her. "I saw you leave, so I just wanted to say- I'm sorry."

"For what? My dead friend or my ex-boyfriend?" MJ asked. It came out sharp and pained and didn't sound like her at all. "No! Sorry, that came out wrong- I didn't mean-" And she started to cry. She had never cried in front of another woman before, not after she had learned what her tears did to her mother. But she cried now- and Gwen's arms were around her almost instantly, even stroking her hair.

"It's alright," she said. "I got you. Here-" She produced some tissues from her pocket. "Let's go sit down."

She led MJ to a bench, one hidden by the trees, and both of them sat down. MJ rubbed frantically at her face, getting away the tears and smudged makeup. "Thanks," she managed to say.

"I'm sorry about everything," Gwen said. "I really am. About Peter-"

"That was his fault, not yours," MJ said, wanting to make that point absolutely clear. "I'm not mad at you." She turned her head away and blew her nose. And then, fighting through the haze of grief, she began the explanation. "Gwen...I was never mad at you in the first place, I swear. Peter was changing into someone I didn't know anymore and you were his friend and I thought..." Guiltily, she examined the ground. "I'm sorry. Anyway, Peter, um- he went through some terrible stuff and he sort of broke down-"

"The guy who killed his uncle escaping from jail? My dad told me."

"Yeah, that. And now this." MJ took a deep breath. "I don't know what to do."

Gwen nodded sadly. "I'm really sorry about your friend."

"Thanks." MJ could tell Gwen was burning with curiousity about Harry's death- her and half the city- but she couldn't talk about it yet, she just couldn't. "The past few weeks have been so bad."

Gwen put a hand on her shoulder, but didn't say anything for a few minutes. Her dad waved at her through the trees and she made a 'see you later' sort of gesture in his direction. "Why don't we go and get coffee?"

Despite the kindness being shown to her, she hadn't expected that. "Yes," she said quickly, fearing the offer would be withdrawn at any moment. "Please."

*

Gwen bought both drinks and waved away Mary Jane's offer of payment. MJ thought that Gwen and Harry would have gotten on very well, had they ever had a chance to meet- and that pained her like a stab wound. They sat down.

"I have a question," Gwen said decisively as she pulled up her chair.

MJ tensed. "What?"

"Is Mary Jane your first name, or your first and middle names smushed together?"

MJ smiled for the first time that day. "S'my first name. But call me MJ. Everyone does."

Gwen took a sip of her drink, and then said, "Hey. Tell me about your friend."

MJ hadn't expected that- it was starting to occur to her that she tended not to expect kindness from women her age. The acting industry was so competive, you grew accustomed to watching your back, and of course all her other female friends had drifted away after the failed wedding-

"Well," she said, and swallowed the lump in the throat, "I think he'd have liked you." She blinked. "He was a good guy. He liked writing, he wrote a play for me." She shoved her hand over her eye to stop the tears. "And he was always there for me and Peter when it mattered. Always."

"I bet I'd have liked him, too," Gwen said gently.

"Yeah. I miss him. Already. So much." She started crying again, to her anger. "Sorry. Stupid-"

"You go ahead and cry."

As MJ dried her eyes once more, she took a proper look at Gwen. The polished nails that she had previously derided weren't so polished anymore- it looked like she'd been biting them. She suddenly wondered how well Gwen had recovered from her own near-death experience and suspected she maybe hadn't, not completely.

"I came to the funeral with my dad," Gwen said. "He goes to lots of funerals...he sees a lot of people killed in action. One of us always goes with him."

MJ felt a brief flash of jealousy that Gwen had a good father and stable family, but then she pushed the painful thought as far down as it would go. "That's good of you."

"I worry about him," Gwen said quietly.

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Don't be too mad at Peter," MJ finally said. "That guy you saw the other week, that wasn't really him."

Gwen nodded, but she seemed uncertain. "I'm kinda...not in a mood to be too forgiving of guys right now." She gave MJ a look that was somehow both guilty and...defiant? "I'll give it time."

MJ scanned her memory, wondering if Peter had ever mentioned a boyfriend of Gwen's. He probably hadn't. She wondered what had happened, and nodded. "Okay."

"I meant to ask," Gwen said, changing the subject, "you did some modelling, didn't you? Before you got on Broadway."

"Yeah," MJ said, and suddenly she was pouring her heart out about the career that meant so much to her. Giving the good parts and the bad parts equal weight. "The modelling just sort of happened, someone liked my look. I didn't really expect to be on billboards and stuff, I felt kinda embarrassed-" Gwen was listening intently. "You gotta be really resilient, which you must be to have got this far. It's a good job-"

And suddenly they were having a full, normal conversation about modelling and acting, as if they were two old friends. And once the conversation reached its natural end, they were unwilling to stop talking, so they talked about plays and films and current events and they had more and more in common and things were starting to seem okay-

MJ even laughed, before she realised what she was doing. Her hand went, without warning, to her mouth.

"It feels almost wrong to be laughing again so soon," she said sadly. And she glanced towards the graveyard on the hill.

"I know," Gwen said. "But it isn't, it really isn't, it's a good thing."

"I...I might just go back to the grave. Say a last goodbye. Can you come with me?" That wasn't something you said to a stranger: a transformation had taken place. Gwen nodded instantly, grabbing her coat, and leaving the still-warm remains of a second four-dollar coffee.

*

"Hello, Harry," MJ said to the grave. Gwen stood at a respectful distance. "I couldn't talk to you at the funeral. People think it's weird. Screw 'em, I say." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gwen smile. "I just came back to say thank you, thank you for everything you did for me. And for Peter. We'll never forget you." She touched her fingers to her lips and then to the gravestone: it was a grand gesture that seemed right. "I miss you. I have to go now, but I'll see you later, I'll visit whenever I can."

"I don't think I'm the only one who's really resilient," Gwen said gently.

MJ stood up and Gwen was there to hug her. They left together.


End file.
